


Children of Starlight

by MelATCK



Category: Kiliel - Fandom, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Babies, Dwarves, Elves, F/M, Future, Multi, Past, Prejudice, Romance, Story, after BOFTA, kiliel - Freeform, life - Freeform, present
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:54:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3953158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelATCK/pseuds/MelATCK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Battle of the Five Armies is won and Thorin and his nephews survived the battle. Years later Bilbo has company from Kíli and Tauriel, who are happily married and have children. Bilbo wants to write about his adventures and finds inspiration in their story, and he thinks it's high time someone recorded it. And so they start telling it from the very beginning...</p><p>Enjoy! Please read and review!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ithtirion bounced up and down in excitement, gripping on to the railings to get a closer look. Rivendell, or Imladris as his mother called it, was vast and beautiful and so different from the glittering halls of Erebor, charming Dale or the statuesque Mirkwood Realm that he was used to. There was the sound of a blasting horn and to the dwelfs greatest amazement and glee he saw several elven warriors return to the city upon horseback. Their armour glittered in the late sunlight, banners flying in the wind. Ithtirion tried to get even closer, pushing himself from the railing. Within a second he felt a firm grip on the back of his tunic that pulled him away before he lost his balance.

Slightly dazed he looked up and his leaf green eyes met his father’s brown ones. Kíli gave his son a stern look and Ithtirion gave his father a sheepish grin, trying to look as innocent as possible.  
“I only wanted to look.” He said with a slight shrug in his shoulders.  
“Dangling over a railing isn’t the best place to get a closer look my boy. Be more careful, you could have fallen.”  
“But I didn’t.”  
“You would have. Now if you want to get a better look, go downstairs, the normal way. Falling down is a quicker but less effective way I am afraid.”  
“Alright!” the young lad chirped and was about to turn to the stairs when his father halted him once more. He crouched down to the child’s height. Kíli still marvelled at his son who seemed to be the perfect blend of both him and Tauriel. He had the same thick dark brown hair as well as his thicker eyebrows. But his eyes were his mother’s; his nose was slimmer and his skin more pale with a few lost freckles on his nose. He still did not show any signs of beard growth, though Kíli himself, sporting a short but thick beard, had been very slow at growing one too. He grinned at his son’s wild hair that seemed adamant on escaping from its clasp. Quickly Kíli released the hair that was pulled back and thread his fingers through the strands before gathering the hair out of his son’s face and bond it back.  
“There, now you look presentable.” He said and Ithtirion rolled is eyes. “Now promise me you’ll be careful, you’re mother will go mad if you get yourself hurt and then it will be my fault.” And his son grinned cheekily.  
“Yes adad.” He promised and as Kíli released him he sprinted down the stairs without looking back.

Kíli laughed as the boy reminded him way too much of himself at that age. With every passing day he realised what his mother must he gone through with him and Fíli around, making her life difficult.

“Of course I’d blame you, he gets it from your side.” A voice floated onto the balcony and Kíli looked up with a grin. Tauriel stood in the archway, a light green gown floating around her that complemented her long flaming hair and bright green eyes. A simple golden circlet rested on her head, her marriage braids, identical to Kíli’s hanging beside her face. She smiled at him.

Beside her stood their young daughter, who held on to her fingers with her small hands to keep her balance. His smile widened and within seconds he’d scooped down and picked up his daughter twirling her in the air, the girl madly giggling, smiling with a toothy grin. She had inherited her mother’s red hair a splash of freckles that contrasted with her large sparkling brown eyes that came from him.  
“My darling Amrâliel! How are you doing today?”  
“Fine adad.” She giggled putting her small hand on his cheek. “Nana said we could go see the horses.” The girl told him, looking back at her mother to make sure the promise still held.  
“But of course!” Kíli told his girl. “Your nadad is already downstairs.” He shifted his daughter to his left side, supporting her easily with one arm. With his other hand he reached out for his wife. With a smile Tauriel laced her own fingers through his. He reached up to give her a kiss.  
“Amrâlimê.” He murmured and she smiled kissing him on his cheek.  
“Meleth nîn.” She said back so softly it was like a whisper. Hand in hand they walked down the stairs, their daughter marvelling at Rivendell.

They had only arrived the night before, stopping here on their way to the Shire. Bilbo had invited them over for tea. They had last seen him at their wedding 20 years ago and Bilbo was curious to see their dwelfling children. It wasn’t something new, everywhere they went people from all kinds of races seemed in awe of their children. Apart from the fact that they existed, which was a feat in itself, they seemed to be perfect mix of dwarf and elf. In fact most remarked that they resembled the race of men the most, not including their slightly pointed ears. It had been a long and difficult road till now, with many more challenges on the way for the small family. But Kíli and Tauriel were so happy to simply to be together, being able to raise two wonderful children that every day felt like a blessed day.

They arrived in the courtyard where the leader of the party was reporting to Lord Elrond. The other elves were busy dismounting and patting their horses dry. Ithtirion was buzzing around, in awe by the warriors and their large horses. When Kíli and Tauriel reached Lord Elrond, Ithtirion had managed to get the attention of one of the elves and was firing questions at him. The elf with long brown hair calmly answered his questions one by one, not seeming to mind the young boy’s rapid pace. Others around to pair looked at the scene amused. It was rare to see elf children, especially a dwelfling, and thus all were treasured and treated with the outmost care and kindness. 

Greeting Lord Elrond, Tauriel laughing made her way to her son, rescuing the poor elf from his interrogation.  
“Come now elnya, let them rest first. I am sure you can ask all your questions later.” She slightly scolded him and he looked up at her with wide eyes, trying to look innocent. But it had no effect on his mother, as he really knew. Her firm hand on his shoulder told him enough.  
“Yes nana.” He said. The elf he was talking to smiled.  
“It’s alright Lady Tauriel, your boy is just very curious.”  
“Yes I am sure he is, but he does need to learn the best time to ask all those questions of his.” Then she scooped down to Ithtirion and readjusted a strand of hair. “Have you greeted Lord Elrond yet?” she asked and his softly shook his head. Straightening she took his hand in her own. “Well let’s go then, or are you afraid?” The boy looked at her in shock and puffed out his small chest.  
“No!” he retorted and to prove it he turned to drag his mother to the elf in question but his mother stopped him.  
“What do you say first?” She asked. Quickly realizing his mistake, her son turned back and bowed to the brown haired elf.  
“Thank you sir!” then he looked at his mother for confirmation that he did the right thing. She smiled and relieved he set out to where his father was. Tauriel laughed as he tried to pull her with him. She looked back at the elf.  
“Le hannon.” She said giving him a nod with her head, the elf returned the nod and turned to his waiting horse, still looking amused.

Ithtirion’s initial burst of bravery seemed to dim down considerably as he approach the elven lord. Only a few steps away he stopped completely. His parents laughed and Elrond himself suppressed a grin. Softly his mother pushed him forward, whispering encouraging words. He glanced at his baby sister who sat in her father’s arms looking entirely calm. He didn’t want to let her see him be afraid even if she was still so young. He clenched his jaw, straightened his shoulders and had a determined look on his face. He took a few steps forward so he stood right in front of the lord, looking into his stormy grey eyes.  
“It’s an honour to meet you, Lord Elrond of Rivendell.” The boy said giving him a low albeit stiff bow. It took all Elrond’s willpower not to laugh at the poor boy for he looked very amusing. But he feared it might hurt the boy’s pride. So when the boy rose to look at him, he himself gave the boy a small bow back.  
“And it’s an honour to meet you to Ithtirion, son of Kíli, son of stars.” He said seriously before gracing him with a smile. The boy looked at him in awe. “Are you enjoying your stay in Imladris?” and the boy nodded heavily.  
“Yes sir!”  
“Then after lunch you wouldn’t mind accompanying me to the libraries would you?” Ithtirion’s green eyes grew wide. He had heard many stories of what the libraries of Rivendell possessed and it wasn’t only books. His eyes quickly darted to his parents who gave him an encouraging smile. Then he bowed down again.  
“Yes sir, it would be an honour.” And Elrond grinned, the boy reminding him of his own sons.  
“Great.” He said and turned to the stairs. Kíli and Tauriel followed him. He didn’t miss Ithtirion shooting to his mother’s side, holding her hand.  
“Was that okay?” He asked in a whisper. His mother smiled.  
“You were wonderful darling.” And the boy’s shoulders relaxed. As they turned a corner his head shot up, another question coming to mind.  
“Nana?”  
“Yes meleth?”  
“Is it true they only have green food here?” Tauriel laughed in amusement.  
“Who told you?”  
“Uncle Fíli. What if you don’t like green food, do you starve?”  
“Oh no darling, Lord Elrond wouldn’t let any of his guests starve and besides, you like green food.”  
“Well yes I do, but I was just wondering, what if you don’t?”  
“Then I am sure there will be something else if you ask nicely.” The answer seemed to content her son for a little while until another thought sprung to mind.  
“Ada doesn’t like green food.” He stated and his father laughed, turning to ruffle his son’s hair.  
“Don’t worry son, I’ll manage. You’re mother taught me to like it.” He smiled before turning to his wife. “More like forcing really.” He muttered under his breath and Tauriel winked at him.

 

Their days at Rivendell passed quickly yet peacefully. Tauriel seemed to come to rest in its lovely halls and Kíli loved seeing her in such a peaceful state of mind. Amrâliel, daughter of love, kept true to her name and had been charming every elf that lay eyes on her. Apart from playing with her brother she could often be found outside with several elves, male and female, that would play with her and allowed her to explore. Her favourite pass time was with the ponies and she had begged her mother to help her ride one and Tauriel obliged. When the girl grew tired she would spend many hours being read to of all the magnificent stories that Middle Earth had to offer.

Meanwhile Ithtirion was questioning anyone that had time to answer. Elrond’s library seemed like a different world all together and he spent hours reading and discovering new things. But he was especially interested in the large armoury where he had found a bow his size. He’d shown it to his father proudly and desperately wanted to learn how to use it. Kíli and Tauriel had always wanted to each their children the ways of fighting they would probably have to use those skills one day. But they were still very young and the parents had planned to wait a few years when they were strong enough. But seeing their son with the bow, they couldn’t resist teaching him the basics, Kíli watching his son proudly during the ‘training’ sessions. 

 

Before long they saddled up their horses and the travel equipment packed ready to ride to Hobbiton. Lord Elrond and several other elves came down to bid the family farewell. Small gifts for the children were given, who felt like it was Christmas, much to their parents exasperation who didn’t want their children to leave Rivendell completely spoiled.

Saying good-bye to Elrond, Kíli and Tauriel made the lord promise them to keep them up to date with the rather alarming developments in Middle Earth.  
“If ever you need a safe house, Rivendell will welcome you.” He said and the couple bowed in thanks. Being parents had changed them from wanting adventure, fighting, and actions, to doing anything to keep their children safe.

Tauriel climbed on her horse with Ithtirion in front of her, while Kíli’s pony carried him and Amrâliel. Waving the children said their goodbyes to the wonderful place and people as their parents brought their horses into gallop.

 

It took them two days to get from Rivendell to the Shire, taking many breaks in between. The children squealed in delight when the Brandywine River, dividing the Shire with Breeland came into view and in the distance they could start making out several hobbit holes.  
“Are we almost there now nana?” Ithtirion asked and his mother smiled down at him.  
“Yes we are darling.” And within several minutes they had crossed the river. On the shores of the Shire they dismounted, fearing the small paths would be cumbersome from the horses and the hobbits walking on the road.

As they walked towards Bag End several of the hobbits stared, which was entirely understandable. It wasn’t often that they saw a dwarf or an elf, and much less together, with children cheerfully walking along.

Kíli after all this time still remembered the way the Bilbo’s house, unlike his uncle he actually was good with directions. Bilbo had spotted them before they saw him. Knowing his guests could arrive any moment, the hobbit had sat on the bench in his front lawn, enjoying to sunny weather, happily smoking his pipe. He felt entirely content, and was reminded of the day when he had sat on the same place, before Gandalf the Grey had whisked him of for an adventure. An adventure it had been! Though some, if not most parts, hadn’t been very enjoyable for the poor hobbit, who did indeed prefer his books and armchair to nasty things such as skipping meals, not having handkerchiefs and fighting the occasional orcs, he didn’t regret it for the world. He felt blessed to have seen so many different parts of Middle Earth, meeting interesting folk, and creating ever-lasting friendships. 

As his guests drew closer he got up excitedly and doused him pipe. He opened his front gate. He saw Kíli smiled and wave before shouting loudly.  
“Mr Boggins!”  
“Kíli Durin!” Bilbo called back, not caring for the scene he was making, several Hobbits turning in their gardens to see what the shouting was about.

Within seconds the dwarf had reached his old friend and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. Bilbo had slightly forgotten the strength of dwarves. He hastily tapped the lad on his shoulder.  
“My boy, I do enjoy breathing.” He said faintly and Kíli put him back down grinning.  
“It’s great to see you again Bilbo.” He said, his brown eyes earnest and Bilbo smiled at him.  
“Likewise of course.” He said before turning to face the beautiful elf in front of him. He bowed slightly before taking her hand and giving it a brief kiss. She laughed as he came back up.  
“It’s an honour to see you again Lady Tauriel.” He said smiling at the faint blush that reached her cheeks.  
“Oh Mr. Baggins, you haven’t changed, still as charming as ever.”  
“What can I say, you’re still as beautiful as ever.” The hobbit slyly retorted and Tauriel laughed again.  
“Please, Kíli says nothing but endearments, I do long for normal conversation.” She said sneaking a look at her husband’s reactions, who of course reacted as she hoped.  
“Hey! I can speak of other things too! But if you must know, I do mean every single endearment I say.” And his wife gave him cheeky grin.

“What’s an endearment?” came a soft voice and from behind Tauriel, their son appeared, his sister’s hand tightly holding on to his. The adults laughed and Bilbo walked over the children, taking in their appearance. 

The boy seemed no more than 7, at least in Hobbit appearances and years, though he knew the boy was born almost 20 years prior to this day. Their growing process would be a fascinating thing indeed, Bilbo decided. The girl was obviously younger, Bilbo guessing her to be 4. But for part dwarven children they did seem rather tall, the boy not being that much smaller than Bilbo himself. 

He smiled at them before extending a hand.  
“My name is Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, I am a friend of your parents and family. How do you do?” The boy broke out into a grin, taking the Hobbit’s hand and shaking it.  
“It’s a pleasure Mr Baggins, I am Ithtirion of Erebor.” His grin reminded Bilbo all too much of his father, who was looking at the scene with a grin of his own. Then he turned his attention to the girl. She had seemed more shy than her brother, but seeing their interaction had made her decide that the man in front of her would be fine and so she gave him a charming smile of her own, eyes sparkling. Bilbo had no doubt she would turn into a head turning beauty like her mother.  
“Hi Bilbo, I am Amrâliel of Erebor.” Bilbo laughed and took her small hand to give it a kiss just like he had given her mother. The girl looked at him with huge eyes, blushing in the tips of her pointed ears.  
“It’s an honour Lady Amrâliel.” And she giggled before turning her attention to her parents saying rather bluntly:  
“He’s funny adad!” making the adults laugh again and her brother looked rather embarrassed.  
“Amrâliel, you can’t say that!” his sister looked at him confused.  
“Why not? He is funny.”  
“Yes, but its impolite to say that out loud.” Then he bit his lip, looking at his mother a reconfirmation. “Right nana?” His mother smiled.  
“Yes darling.” The girl shifted around before shyly looking back at Bilbo, giving him her best puppy eyes.  
“I am sorry Mr Baggins.” And he smiled, stood up and took the girl’s hand.  
“That’s alright my Lady. Now have you children ever had Hobbiton chocolate milk?” Both heavily shook their head no, their eyes looking at him eagerly.  
“Well then you’re in luck because I have some in my pantry, which,” he said, looking at Kíli as the children gave shouts of glee, “I am hoping to keep stacked.” And Kíli roared in laughter, and guided his wife, a hand on her lower back, towards the door, following Bilbo.

 

The chocolate milk naturally was the best the children had ever drunken and kept asking for more, though their parents ensured they wouldn’t drink too much, afraid it might upset their stomachs.  
Dinner was a joyful affair. Bilbo had outdone his cooking, which his guests loved as they told him the latest news from Erebor and Rivendell.  
Fíli himself was now father of three, he and his wife blissfully married. Thorin was growing tired of rule and Kíli guessed it was be a matter of time before he retired and let Fíli take his place as ruler of Erebor.  
The relations with Dale where always good and even those with Mirkwood seemed to slowly formed into one of civility at best, to one of friendship, though there was still a long way to go.

 

After dinner, the children were ushered to bed. Normally this would be a painstaking task, but the travel and excitement had made them tired, and in record time they were in their small beds, fast asleep.

The adults sat in the comfortable living room by the warming fire. Bilbo had offered his guests glasses of brandy, which they happily sipped.  
“I am glad to hear all is well with Lord Elrond at Rivendell.” Bilbo said before sighing lightly. “I do wish to go back there sometime.”  
“Why don’t you?” Tauriel asked him, her kind eyes flickering in the firelight.  
“Oh I will of course! But I am enjoying my armchair here. It’s a peaceful life, so peaceful, I some times even forget that our quest was in fact real.” The Hobbit admitted and he saw Kíli nod in agreement.  
“So much has happened, it can feel unworldly at times.”  
“Hmmm yes. I’d been thinking, to keep myself busy, I now have the time to write my story.”  
“Your story?”  
“Well our story really, I want to write about our adventure.”  
“That’s a lovely idea Bilbo, I know you write very well.” And Bilbo laughed away the compliment.  
“I just need inspiration, you know a place to start. Perhaps even just a small part of the whole tale, just so I know how I want to write it.” He slightly mumbled, partly to his guests, partly to himself.  
“That does make sense. Can we help you with ideas?” Tauriel asked him and the hobbit looked at her. He looked at her, her marriage braids, before gliding over to Kíli’s, looking at one of the Princes of Erebor. They looked so happy. The love they felt for each other had been said to be many things: untrue, not natural, impossible even. But as Bilbo saw it just there and in the way they looked at the fruits of their union, their wonderful and adorable two children, he could say it was very much real. They had gone through many hardships to be sitting here like this today, with plenty of more hardships to come, and yet here they were, the most unlikely union in Middle Earth, were sitting in Bag End in the Shire. And that’s when the idea came into mind making Bilbo smiled happily.

“I want to write down your story!” He stated happily, looking excited at the couple in front of him. They gave him a look of confusion.  
“Our story?” Kíli repeated, unsure if he heard the hobbit correctly. Bilbo nodded.  
“But you already know our story Mr Baggins.” Tauriel said.  
“Yes, yes I know your story but I want others to know. It’s a marvellous tale. So will you allow me?” He asked and Kíli and Tauriel looked at each other for a moment, silently communicated. Then they turned back, giving him a heart felt smile.  
“If you want to, it would be our honour, especially if it can help you with your tale.” Kíli said taking his wife’s hand in his own. “What do you want to know?” Bilbo clapped in his hands happily, sprang from his chair and hurried over to his desk.  
“Marvellous…marvellous!” he said grabbing some parchment, a pot of ink and a feather. Then he sat back in his chair by the fire, setting the pot on the small table next to him, resting the parchment on his lap. Feather raise he looked ready to write.  
“I need to know everything!” He said and laughed at their shocked expressions.  
“Everything?” Tauriel asked.  
“Yes, yes everything, from the very beginning! Where was that? The Mirkwood dungeons?” and Kíli grinned.  
“Oh no, it would be when the spiders attacked.” He laughed.

And with that Bilbo started writing…


	2. Chapter 2 The Spiders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting of Kíli and Tauriel from Kíli's perspective

Kíli felt fear grip him as he felt himself dangling from a tree, wrapped up in spider silk like a new present ready to be unpacked…or eaten as it seemed.

As a young dwarfling, he had never been afraid of spiders, in fact he sometimes enjoyed the company of the small little things. But he definitely knew he wasn’t a fan of these monsters. A thought occurred to him that was part worrying and amusing. Fíli hated spiders, even the tiny ones, so he had to be shitting himself now in fear. Kíli tried to call out to him, but the spiders had done their job well at packing them in, he couldn’t move anything. He was lucky that he could blink his eyes.

At that moment one of the spiders crawled on top of him and he recoiled in fear, his scream muffled. But the spider had no intention of eating him yet apparently because it easily crawled over him. He heard it hiss to its companions.

Kíli scolded himself for his fearful reaction. He had to fight, try to free himself. It would sound rather pathetic for others to later tell his mother that he had died as spider lunch; there was no honour in that. With that in mind he tried to wiggle around. Moving with all his might he felt a small satisfaction when he felt himself swing around. That wouldn’t be enough. As he tried again however he heard some commotion. In hordes the spiders rushed away as if they were chasing something, or perhaps they were chased. In any case he hoped he would have enough time to free himself. As he thought about it he suddenly felt himself falling down. Something had cut him! With a yell he landed roughly on the ground, onto something bumpy. The cocoon became softer, giving him room to grab his weapon and cut open his imprisonment. As much as he’d hated this cursed forest before, he was now glad to gaze upon its trees. He saw Bilbo waving around his oversized letter opener, attacking one of the spiders. In the distance he saw others rushing back. From beneath him he felt movement and realised Bombur and Dwalin had broken his fall and were now desperately trying to get from underneath him. He gave them a grin and jumped off. His eyes found his brother’s blue ones and the siblings smiled, understanding that both were fine. Then they raised their weapons and charged at the oncoming spiders.

His bow had been lost and would have been useless at such close range so Kíli used his sword, slashing anything non-dwarven or Hobbit out of the way. The spiders were huge, towering over them, their long legs dancing around. The Company worked as a team, effectively killing several of the nasty creatures. Most memorable was the one that had caught Bombur. Together they grabbed its legs and pulled so hard until they were ripped from its body. It gave Kíli a thrill to see the beast like this, but the feeling was short lived as another one grabbed him from behind, wrapping its hairy legs around him. He squirmed, his sword dropping in the process. God damn it!

He tried to call out, but his voice was drowned in the other yells, grunts, and frantic hissing. He was dragged further and further away from the group until he could only make out their silhouettes as they reached a clearing. While struggling he tried to keep listening to what was happening. He heard running and then suddenly the weirdest sound, the sound of flying arrows! He was the only one who could properly shoot, in that he was an oddity among dwarves. Thorin wouldn’t use his bow and neither would Fíli, because they knew it would be useless. So then who were shooting?

The noise stopped and the beast tugged even harder on his legs as he tried to kick it away. He gave some more shouts and almost sighed in relief when he heard his brother respond. The spider loosened its grip slightly and Kíli used it to his advantage. Full of rage he kicked himself free and tried to scramble away as the beast hissed and clawed. Suddenly it gave a high-pitched squeal, falling dead and Kíli saw an arrow protruding from its head. Surprised he turned to see an elf advancing towards him, killing every spider in its path. The elf moved with deadly grace that he found enchanting. He’d made the embarrassing mistake in Rivendell of mistaking an elf lad for an elven maiden to the thorough amusement of the company. But the way the immense long red hair danced around the elf’s elegant face and the graceful steps, Kíli was sure this was an elven maid, a hell of a one. A sound distracted him from her and he saw another spider approach them.  
“Throw me a dagger!” He called to the elleth. When she didn’t respond he panicked, the spider coming way too close for comfort and she was busy killing another one. “Quick!” He cried.  
“If you think I’m giving you a weapon dwarf, you’re mistaken!” She said and turned, throwing her dagger that landed straight into the eye of the spider. Again Kíli turned to look at her. Her hair waved around her, falling back into place. She had a grin on her face, obviously happy with herself. Then she looked at him and her green eyes made his heart skip a beat. Belatedly he realised his mouth was gaping. Quickly he closed it, but not before muttering a weak “wow…”

They seized each other up and Kíli couldn’t resist giving her a charming smile. Thank Mahal Dwalin or Thorin weren’t there to see it. She looked slightly confused at him, unsure how to respond. Her ears seemed to pick up commotion and she nodded into that direction.  
“Come.” She said soft but firmly and gestured him to walk that way, obviously wanting to make sure he didn’t run away. His smile disappeared. They had run into the Mirkwood elves of King Thranduil, the bastard who’d refused to help his family when Smaug came. This was going to be interesting. He did as she told him, resisting would be useless. She was faster than him and armed. 

They arrived to where the rest of the company was, who were surrounded by more elves. Satisfied that she had dropped him off, the lovely elf left his side, going over to a male elf with pale blond hair, who was obviously the leader of their group. Kíli watched them talk in their song-like language. He could tell that it sounded different from what the elves spoke in Rivendell. These tones were harsher, rapid and had a more mysterious air. He remembered what Balin had once told him. Mirkwood elves were less wise and more dangerous than their kin. He wondered what they were talking about as the other elves were given the order to search them. He was surprised to find that none searched him. In amusement and dread he watched Fíli’s stash of weapons being diminished. Kíli knew how many weapons his brother carried and started counting. With every weapon the elf found the more frustrated he grew. Unable to keep watching, he focused his attention on the ground, trying to locate his own weapons that he had dropped. But he soon found that the elves had already gathered them up, including his bow and arrows.

He saw the tall blond leader elf wield his uncle’s sword, speaking in elvish while looking at it in awe, as if he’d made it himself. Then the elf turned to Thorin.  
“Where did you get this?” He asked in common tongue accusingly.  
“It was given to me.” Thorin replied in his low voice. Within seconds the sword in question was pointed at his throat.  
“Not only a thief, but a liar as well!” the elf said angrily. “Enwenno hain!” He called and the elves pushed them into a line and started to march them through the forest. Kíli didn’t think it would result into something good. He tried to sneak a glance at the pretty red-haired elf, but her expression was a mask. She looked serious and gave several elves orders. He smiled amused; she must have a high position in order to do so.

Rather quickly they were crossing a bridge over a rushing river before the entrance of the Mirkwood Realm. Kíli couldn’t help but marvel at the grand structure. This wasn’t anything like the curls and swirls of Rivendell, it was robust, yet decorative; purposeful yet beautiful, just like dwarven architecture. It surprised the young dwarf that most of the kingdom was in fact made of stone. Light stonewalls surrounded them, as if they were in a canyon. They walked over wooden walkways that looked like huge roots of trees, meandering through the immense space. Everywhere around him, Kíli heard the sounds of waterfalls rushing past. As he looked up he saw hundreds of more walkways, decorated with elegant bows. Golden light fell into the hall in scattered places, giving it a mysterious feeling. Stone pillars seemed to support the entire structure and these were carved to reassemble tree, their branches connecting into large arches. He could see a platform in the middle of the hall. The majority of the platform was covered with a huge throne, decorated with antlers. Fitting he mused. But they passed the throne and without a word, were marched deeper into the kingdom. Several of the elves they passed looked at them in surprise and distrust. Kíli gave them a harsh look; if only they knew who they were looking at. It wasn’t long before they reached their destination. It was no surprise to see several prisons, carved into the stone walls with elegant but obviously sturdy iron wrought gates. Several of the company started to make loud protests as they were placed into one of the cells, one by one. 

Kíli had the chuckle a bit when he heard Gloin protest loudly against his guard.   
“This won’t be the end of it! Do ye hear me?” the dark red dwarf yelled. But the elves ignored him. Kíli and Fíli were marched to the last cells, and although the cells were still several meters apart, they were glad they weren’t separated that much. As Fíli was pushed into his, his guard stopped him and grabbed his final weapon, number 13, from the inside of his jacket, and Fíli gave a frustrated sigh. Kíli turned to the lovely female elf, who guided him into his own.  
“Aren’t you going to search me?” He asked, his face turning deadly serious. “I could have anything down my trousers.” The elf didn’t even blink.  
“Or nothing.” She retorted and closed his cell, but her eyes lingered and he could see the amusement in her eyes. As she walked away he couldn’t resist watching her leave. 

She passed the blond elf on her way. They spoke a few quick words before she continued to walk away, smiling. The blond on the other hand didn’t look very amused and turned to look straight at him. Kíli held his gaze and the elf gave him a glare before he too left. 

Kíli turned to look at his surroundings. For a prison cell it wasn’t too bad. There was a bed, a chair and table, as well as a small sink to wash his face and a stone bench close to the door. He sighed as he lay on his bed. He could hear some other dwarves talking, trying to find a way to get out of here.  
He closed his eyes. 

This was going to be interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> The prologue to this story where we will hear the tale of Kíli and Tauriel. Enjoy!
> 
> Translations:
> 
> 'Adad': Khuzdul for 'father'
> 
> 'Ada': Sindarian for 'father'
> 
> 'Nana': Sindarian for 'mother'
> 
> 'Elnya': Sindarian for 'my star'
> 
> 'Le hannon': Sindarian for 'thank you'
> 
> 'Amrâlimê': Khuzdul for 'my love'
> 
> 'Meleth nîn': Sindarian for 'my love'
> 
> Ithtirion: his name is a combination of elvish and khuzdul, meaning 'son of stars'
> 
> Amrâliel: her name is a combination of elvish and khuzdul, meaning 'daughter of love'


End file.
